by Ellie Wade
“I’m not ashamed of the way we started at all. In a way, I think we needed to begin our story that way.”
“Meaning?”
“I don’t know. I think any of the conventional ways in which one starts dating someone wouldn’t have worked with us. We have too much history. If one of us had felt attracted toward the other before, I don’t know that we would’ve said anything or trusted our feelings. It would’ve been complicated and perhaps easier left unexplored. But the way we did it left no room for second-guessing. The deed was done, and we were forced to address it, you know? I’m so thankful we were.”
“Yeah, maybe you’re right. I just want you to know that you’re not a one-night stand to me.”
“I know that, Landon. Of course I know that.” I hug him tight, resting my cheek against his chest. “When are we going to tell our families that we’re dating? I feel like a liar every time I talk to my mom.”
“I know. Let’s tell them next time we go home. I feel like it should be an in-person conversation, don’t you?”
I raise my head, and our eyes lock. “Do you think they’ll be weird about it?”
He shakes his head. “No. I mean … I’m sure they always thought it was a possibility that a Porter boy would end up with a Madison girl. We grew up together. It makes sense. I just think that, because of who you are and how important you are to not only me, but also my family, it warrants a face-to-face conversation. Our parents might be a little surprised that it’s us who ended up together. I’m sure they all had bets on Jax and Lily being the ones.”
“They’re young. It might still happen with them.”
Landon shrugs. “Well, good thing we’re the first.” He winks before taking my lips in his.
I’m lost in the kiss. My body is bursting with love, need, and indescribable happiness. Landon pulls away, leaving me panting and longing for more.
“We have reservations,” he reminds me, the lack of urgency in his words evident.
“Let’s skip them.” I cradle his face between my hands and pull his mouth back down toward mine.
“We. Should. Eat,” he says between kisses.
“Later,” is my one-worded response before my tongue gleefully enters his mouth once more.
I’ve waited long enough for Landon Porter. I’m not going to wait another second.
He groans, low and deep, and pushes me back against the wall. Our lips only separate so that our clothes can be removed, and then they connect again as our bare, hot skin presses against one another.
My hands greedily explore his body as his hands sear my skin with their touch. His hand dips between my thighs, and suddenly, his fingers are entering me. My head hits the wall as I throw it back in a moan.
“Landon,” I gasp.
He’s everything. I lied earlier. None of the other entries in my journal hold a candle to having Landon this way.
The way he feels.
The way he tastes.
The way he sounds.
All of my gratitude today revolves around him.
His fingers move inside me with purpose as his mouth sucks on my neck.
I can only squeeze his shoulders as I pant, so very desperate for the sensations he’s giving me.
His lips and fingers leave me simultaneously, and I whimper at their loss. Landon drops to his knees and lifts one of my legs over his shoulder. I groan loudly as his mouth finds me, and his tongue begins working against the exact spot where I need him most.
“Oh, yes,” I cry out. “Please don’t stop,” I beg as rainbows of colors burst behind my eyelids.
Landon inserts two fingers and rubs firmly against the front wall while his tongue flicks in an agonizing tempo, and I fall. I plummet into the space where there’s no rational thought, just animalistic need and unrestrained pleasure. I scream as my body convulses. I’m barely aware of Landon’s hand pushing against my chest, holding me against the wall, preventing me from tumbling over.
My quivers slow in time with Landon’s tongue. I’m left hot and panting. My body is mush, completely sated in the afterglow.
I feel Landon’s hand under my butt cheeks, and as he lifts me off of the ground, I wrap my legs around him as he enters me, filling me hard and fast. My back presses against the wall in an enchanting rhythm that wavers between uncomfortable and insanely satisfying.
I’m spent, my body limp as it absorbs each savory thrust. But I feel him everywhere, his groans and grunts reverberating through me. His skin is soft and slick from sweat beneath my touch. I cling to him.
The connection that Landon and I share is so profound it’s addicting. I’m chasing my next release and yet I know when I get it—I’m going to want another.
Landon pounds into me harder and faster. His vocalizations are louder now, and my body quakes as his intensity sends me over the edge once more. He follows right behind me, and the immense satisfaction I hear in his release prolongs my own.
We’re two sweaty bodies struggling for breaths in a post-orgasmic state. Landon continues to hold me, my legs wrapped around him, my back pushed against the wall. I open my eyes to find Landon staring at me in wonder.
“I think I love you, Amy Madison,” he says on an elated sigh.
“I think I love you, Landon Porter.”
He softly kisses my lips.
“I don’t want to leave this room all weekend,” I tell him honestly.
“Room service it is,” he says with his signature grin.
I think back to all the times in my life I’ve seen that grin. I can’t believe I never appreciated the gravity of it.
I know, here and now, that I never want to be anywhere else but in his arms, smiling back at him.
Landon pulls out of me, and I drop my feet to the ground.
The moment my feet touch the carpeted floor, reality crashes into me.
Suddenly, I have an intense need to vomit as fear permeates my body.
My chest tightens as a nagging voice echoes in my head.
No.
No.
No.
I rapidly shake my head and back and forth in response to what I know to be true. But it can’t be.
It can’t.
Not for me.
Not now.
“Amy”—Landon holds my shoulders, and concern lines his voice—“what is it?”
I raise my stare to meet his. Panic pounds throughout me, the loud thud echoing in my head with each beat of my heart.
I’m frozen as I try to make sense of everything.
“Amy?” Landon’s voice is louder.
All I can get out is, “Condom.”
Amy
Desperate seconds where anything is possible.
His embrace.
His love.
Visible relief falls over Landon as he lets out a breath. “It’s okay. I put one on. When you were coming down from your first orgasm, I grabbed one from my pants pocket and put it on. We’re good. We’re good,” he repeats as he lightly squeezes my shoulders.
I stare at him with such sadness. How can a moment of such high be followed by a moment of such despair? I pity him because he’s still in the aftershock of amazing sex, but that happiness is going to come crashing down on him. He doesn’t even know.
I push his chest back, so I can walk past him. I grab a white robe from the closet and drape it around me. Normally, I’d be gushing at how soft it is, but right now, it’s simply an armor to cover my vulnerable, naked body so that I can have the strength to say something so hard.
I tightly tie the belt of the robe around my waist and turn to face Landon. He stands a few feet from me in his form-fitting boxers, looking like he just stepped out of a Calvin Klein underwear ad, and I almost want to hate him.
I swallow. “Did you use a condom every time we had sex, the first time?”
He nods. “Yes, of course. Every time. Why?”
I bite my quivering lip. “I haven’t had my period, Landon.”
“Since when?”
“Since before I came to school, maybe two or three weeks before the night of the house party and”—I swallow—“us.”
“Are you telling me you’re three weeks late?”
“I think so,” I say quietly.
“What do you mean, you think so? Don’t girls know these things?” There’s a slight panic in his voice.
“I’ve never been regular, and I’ve honestly never really kept track of it. But it just occurred to me that I haven’t had it since being at school, and that’s been a month. And I’ve been feeling really queasy lately … like nauseous and sick.” My voice quivers.
“You’ve been feeling nauseous?”
I nod and sit on the bed, not trusting my shaky knees.
“I used a condom every time,” he says by way of explanation.
“They’re not a hundred percent, right?”
He takes a step back, threading his fingers through his hair. “They’re pretty damn close, Amy. Plus, you said it yourself. You’re not regular. There’s no way. No fucking way.” He shakes his head.
I wipe a tear that’s fallen. “I don’t know. I just have a really bad feeling all of a sudden.”
Landon lets out a long sigh. “Let’s not jump to any conclusions. I’m going to run out and get a test. Okay? Let’s not worry until we have to.”
“Okay,” I say through the tears that are now falling hard.
Landon puts up his hands in reassurance. “Don’t freak out. It’s going to be okay. Don’t worry.”
I watch as he throws his clothes on and races out of the room without another word.
He’s right. It can’t be.
It can’t be.
I repeat this sentiment in my head over and over again. I’m thankful for these desperate seconds where anything is possible, where I could still get the answer I want, the answer I need. Once the answer comes, regardless of what it is, I’ll have to face it.
I’m still in the same spot on the bed when Landon returns a few minutes later. He’s out of breath as he enters the room.
“Here.” He hands me a pink box.
I take the box from him. Pulling in a steadying breath, I stand from the bed and walk toward the bathroom.
The entire process is so foreign, and it doesn’t feel real. Everything that’s happening in this bathroom—from my actions to the way I’m feeling—is so out of place on this magical anniversary weekend. It’s not supposed to be like this.
I place the plastic wand upside down on the counter as I flush and wash my hands.
I take the wand with the answer window facing toward the ground, and I head out to Landon.
“Have you looked?” he asks, the words rapidly spewing out.
I shake my head. “I think we should wait a couple more minutes.”
“Okay. Yeah,” he agrees.
We sit on the bed, facing each other while we wait.
When I know it’s been well past four minutes, I lift my stare to meet Landon’s.
“It’s going to be fine,” he reassures me with a weak smile.
I drop my gaze to the plastic future teller in my hand and slowly turn it over.
In clear blue letters, it reads, Pregnant.
I drop the test, and it falls to the bed. I cover my face with my hands, and I cry.
It seems like days since I read the worst word in history.
Pregnant.
Yet, in reality, it’s probably only been hours. I lie in the big, expensive hotel bed. My face is tight with dried tears.
Getting knocked up my freshman year was never part of my plan.
Landon lies behind me, his arms wrapped around my middle.
He held me as I cried. We haven’t talked about the verdict that will inevitably change our lives forever.
We’ve both been lost in our own thoughts. I think I have to process this before I can talk to him about it.
I honestly can’t believe it. He’s right; he was careful. I remember all the condom wrappers on the floor the morning after. I worked my entire life to get accepted to the University of Michigan just to get pregnant on my very first night on campus. It’s so out of my realm of possibility that I’m having a hard time making sense of it. Seriously, how can this be my life? I should be thinking about my future and what I’m going to do. But I have … what … eight or so months to think about that.
Right now, I simply want to feel sorry for myself.
I’m so very angry and beyond heartbroken.
I’m lost, and though I have Landon here with me, I feel so alone.
Because, let’s face it, yeah, it took two of us to make this happen, but I’m going to be the one to deal with the true consequences of our actions. I’m going to be the freshman tramp walking around campus with a scarlet letter shining brightly for all the world to judge—in the form of a giant, round belly.
All this is on me.
Sure, Landon will stick with me because that’s the type of person he is. But he can go on, living his life like normal, save for the fact that festering animosity and resentment will continue to grow inside him until not only are we no longer lovers, but we’ll lose our friendship as well.
“I guess we’re going to have more than one announcement to make when we go home,” I say dryly, breaking our silence.
“Yeah,” Landon says quietly, “looks like we will.”
I sigh, “This really blows.”
“Yeah, it does.”
“I’m so sorry, Landon.”
“I’m sorry, too.”
I turn to face him and bury my face against his chest. He tightly holds me, and in this moment of such despair, his embrace feels good. I can’t start pushing him away before he’s given me a reason to. He loves and respects me, and he has my whole life. He wouldn’t leave, and perhaps he could even love me through all the stress this new life is going to bring.
Maybe I’m not alone after all.
Amy
Kind doctors.
A baby alien.
Landon’s strength.
I sit cross-legged on my bed, holding my phone out in front of me. The screen displays my mom’s bright face.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to head up to get you? You really can’t come home?” she asks me.
“No, I’m sorry. I really wish I could. I have a big Psych test that I need to study for. I don’t want to get behind,” I tell her.
“I understand. We just miss you. You look tired. Everything okay?” Concern flickers in her eyes.
I smile wide. “Totally fine, Mom. I’m good. Just a lot of homework and stuff, you know?”
I hate myself for skipping out on going home this weekend. I hate that I’m lying to my mother. Most of all, I hate that I’m such a coward.
“All right, baby. We’ll see you soon. You take care of yourself, and don’t work too hard. Make sure you’re getting enough sleep, too. Okay?”
“Okay, Mom.”
“Well, I’m going to let you tell your sister that you’re missing homecoming weekend.” She raises her eyebrows.
“Gee, thanks.” I chuckle as I watch my mom’s face leave my screen, quickly to be replaced by Lily’s.
“You’re not coming home?” Lily questions.
“Sorry, Lil. I can’t.”
“I wanted you to do the sweep-up hairdo that you always do.” She pouts out her lips.
“I’m sorry. Have Mom try. Or just curl it and wear it down. That look is always stunning on you.”
“I just really wanted to see you,” she tells me with a sigh.
“I know. I miss you all, too. Tell me what your dress looks like, and we’ll come up with the perfect hair style,” I tell her.
She nods, her eyes going wide. “Good idea. I’ll show you. It’s so pretty, pink, and glittery.”
“Perfect combo.”
Lily carries my mom’s phone to her bedroom. She shows me the dress, and we brainstorm the best makeup and hair to complete the look.
“Are you going with Jax to the dance?
” I ask her.
“We’re going with a group of friends. Technically, Jax is going with Jen, but they’re coming along with me, Kristyn, and a few others. It’s going to be fun.”
“Video message me when you’re ready tomorrow, so I can see the finished look.”
Lily nods. “I will.”
“You’re going to have so much fun.”
A wave of nostalgia washes over me. I remember picking out a dress and contemplating hair styles for my sophomore homecoming dance. Ironically, dreams of college were always sitting at the forefront of my mind back then. Now that I’m here, it’s nothing like I imagined. Truthfully, I envy Lily. My troubled heart would give anything to go back to the days when I wasn’t secretly having a baby with my friend from childhood.
I would give anything to return to the days of dreaming instead of drowning in the reality of today.
Lily catches me up on the small-town drama before we say our good-byes.
I end the video chat with my sister and stare absentmindedly at the screen of my phone before my cell fades to black. The knock at the door pulls me out of my trance, and I check the time.
It’s Landon.
The afternoon got away from me.
I jump off of my bed and open my door to find Landon in the common room, chatting with Megan and her latest guy who is sitting on the small sofa.
“Hey.” I smile toward him.
“You ready?” he asks.
My words fail me, so I simply nod.
He extends his hand, and I take it.
As we walk out, Landon calls over his shoulder, “Bye, Meg. Nice meeting you, Bing.”
We hear Megan’s guy say, “I’m Tony,” as the door closes, drowning his voice out.
I lift my eyes to Landon’s and catch a sparkle of laughter in his hazels. A small smile finds my lips.
“So, this one isn’t Chandler either?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Nope. There’s been no sign of Chandler Bing. It’s sad,” I say with a playful pout, thankful for the distraction.
Landon and I have stopped trying to learn the names of Megan’s guy friends, referring to them all as Bing instead. After meeting her first two hook-ups the first week of the semester and having them carry the names of two of the main characters in my favorite sitcom, Friends, we’ve been waiting for her to bring back a Chandler to complete the trio.